


One Night

by eyemeohmy



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Spark Sex, WAFF, oh god it's kinda songfic-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 22:52:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4323864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/pseuds/eyemeohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cliffjumper reunites with an old colleague.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is an oldfic from 2009. Eesh. I cleaned it up quite a bit, but it might still be wonky in certain spots. Either way, it's one of my favorites.
> 
> This fic was basically a challenge with someone. Basically, incorporate the lyrics of [One Night in Bangkok](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P9mwELXPGbA) into the fic without making it a flat-out songfic.
> 
> The bulk of the story takes place post-season 3.

When Cliffjumper first laid optics on Mirage, he knew he'd hate him.

Magnus had called Cliffjumper into his office on short notice one evening a little over nine years ago.

At the time, Decepticon trouble was brewing again, rearing its ugly head after years of dormancy. The Minibot didn't know why his service was needed, but he did not question his superior's order.

"Sir," Cliffjumper spoke to the door mounted camera, "Cliffjumper reporting."

"Come in."

There came the quiet clicks and clonks of bolts and locks opening. Cliffjumper watched the doors spread, shadows parting as soft light from within washed over his chassis. He stepped inside, posture straight, arms behind his back, showing the utmost respect to his commander. As soon as the doors shut and locked behind him, Cliffjumper lifted his gaze and instead of meeting with Magnus, he was looking upon another mech. One he had never seen before.

The stranger had turned his head and met Cliffjumper's optics at that exact moment. The slight surprise surpassed, replaced with subtle irritation manifesting in a frown when he saw this mech's optics were purple. 

A neutral. 

To Cliffjumper, neutrals were just as worthless and troublesome as Decepticons. If they weren't willing to fight for their freedom, they served no purpose on Cybertron.

It didn't take long for Cliffjumper to realize just why this mech was a neutral. His design, his sleek frame, it all made sense. He was a regal 'bot; all class, no action. Everything about this stranger exuded "elite," and alongside Decepticons and traitors, Cliffjumper hated rich snobs. From experience, all they cared about were their own little rich and luxurious lifestyles, barely lifting a finger to help their "brothers" in arms. As long as their happy bubble never popped, they could care less about this war and those less fortunate than their own.

Magnus stood, and Cliffjumper snapped out of his daze. The blue and white mech gathered to his feet quickly, standing beside the older Autobot. "Cliffjumper," Magnus said, "I'd like to introduce you to Mirage."

Mirage smiled at the smaller 'bot. "Pleasure is mine," he said and oh he sounded so smug.

Cliffjumper just turned to face Magnus, completely ignoring the rich neutral. A simple nod of recognition would do for someone of _his_ caliber. "You requested me, sir?" he inquired.

"Mirage here," Magnus said and raised a hand to the purple eyed mech, "is a new recruit."

The Minibot's optics widened.

"I've been working with him for a few days now," Magnus explained, "and he has great potential and many useful skills. He will make a fine addition to the Autobot army."

Mirage cleared his throat and placed his hands together. "I recently joined the Autobots," he explained, optics creasing, "when I was... originally a neutral."

Cliffjumper repressed the urge to roll his optics. 

"But after I heard there was new Decepticon activity, the Allspark's destruction, and... The chaos on the planet Earth..." Mirage lifted his gaze and looked firmly into Cliffjumper's. The smaller 'bot felt a sudden chill run down his backstrut, and he twitched. "... I simply cannot stand by and do nothing. Not anymore. So..." He invented, deeply, and bowed. "... Please accept me as a fellow Autobot in training. I will do my best to be your diligent student."

"He will begin training tomorrow," Magnus explained. 

Mirage stood straight and nodded, a soft glimmer of excitement in his purple optics.

Magnus looked back at his silent soldier. "And you will survey his progress."

Cliffjumper's jaw unlocked. "S-Sir?" He didn't care if this newbie wanted to leave behind his old, disgusting lifestyle, he _still_ didn't like him. He reeked of a bloated ego and a sense of "holier than thou" superiority. "I don't think I qualify--"

"Those are your orders," Magnus interjected. He knew very well Cliffjumper's disdain for 'bots like Mirage. He knew he hated those who resided in the Towers of Crystal City in general. And perhaps it was this very grudge that made him assign them as partners. "As I said, training will begin tomorrow at 08:00 solar cycles. I have prepared a regime and schedule for the both of you." He narrowed his eyes. "I hope you can rise above certain... prejudices to ensure Mirage gets the proper training he needs."

Cliffjumper winced inwardly. Damn, was he that transparent? He repressed a sigh and saluted, heels clicking together. "As you command, sir," he said firmly. 

Mirage smiled and Magnus nodded.

The Autobot commander gestured to the Minibot. "I hope you two become well acquainted." He then sat back down. "Dismissed."

"Thank you, sir," Mirage said happily, bowing again.

Cliffjumper just nodded and tried his best not to stomp out in juvenile fury. 

Mirage blinked, quickly chasing after the silent Minibot. 

Cliffjumper did his best to ignore him, but--

"Cliffjumper."

Cliffjumper halted. He turned and regarded the taller mech with a glare. "What?" he spat lowly. "Training doesn't start until tomorrow."

"I-I know," Mirage stuttered. He cleared his vocalizer against a fist. He then extended his right hand, that ever sweet smile back on his handsome faceplates. "Perhaps it was just me, but you seemed a little tense in there. The Magnus can be quite intimidating. So... Hello, Cliffjumper. I am Mirage. It is a pleasure to meet you," he said kindly.

Cliffjumper scrunched his face, glared Mirage straight in his despicable purple optics and--screw it. "I hate neutrals," he said finally, hands on his hips, "I think they're all lazy cowards." 

Mirage blinked, hand still limp in the air. 

"And I _especially_ hate neutrals from the Towers. All of 'em are selfish scrapheads." Cliffjumper's optics narrowed and he leaned forward, scrutinizing his new companion. "What makes you any different? Why should I cut you slack just because you finally decided to put forth some effort in society?"

Mirage winced. My, this one was rude. But, his honesty was refreshing. Living as Mirage did, everyone showered him with praise, acting like saints and kissing his ass in hopes his power and influence would rub off on them. They were never sincere; all liars. And to see that people like Cliffjumper, who spoke their minds and did not sugar coat everything they said... Mirage couldn't help but grin and it only annoyed the Minibot even more. 

"What're you smilin' at? I'm not complimenting you. Though I suspect you'd think I am since everyone you know must..."

The blue and white mech just chuckled softly and shook his head. "I guess I really did mean it when I said it was a pleasure to meet you," he said. Cliffjumper was absolutely baffled, only managing to reply with an agitated glower. "I think, however, I can prove myself as different from all the other Tower citizens you have met. I'm not near as shallow; at least, I don't think so..." Mirage took another deep breath and his smile widened, hand extending confidently again. "So, once more, it's an honor to meet you, Cliffjumper. And I'm glad I'll be working under your command."

This attitude, this reaction to his words, it was not what Cliffjumper had anticipated. Not at all. Mirage was suppose to insult his lifestyle, his beliefs, rub the fact he was a lowly grunt in his face, blow up in a huff, stomp a foot then march back off to his precious little mansion, refusing to join such "lowly, rude Autobots". But... It didn't happen, and that was alarming. And Cliffjumper eyed that hand again and for a brief moment, he almost went to shake it--

"You better be ready by tomorrow," Cliffjumper snapped instead. "I'm not going to treat you like a prince just because you're some high class snob. You're gonna get dirty, you're gonna be in a world full of pain, and you'll find not everyone in this world bows to your whims." And with that, he turned, marching off.

Mirage watched him leave. His grin remained. A moment later, his heels clicked together; back went straight and he made a near perfect salute. "Yes, sir!" he called after his new partner, but Cliffjumper kept on walking.

**NINE YEARS LATER**

"I hate this place."

Cliffjumper stared long and bitterly at the entrance of Crystal City.

Specifically the district known as the Towers. He hadn't been here in nearly ten years and he never wanted to come back. Sure, the city itself was breathtaking; the architecture was amazing and beautiful. No other place on Cybertron was as glorious as Crystal City and the Towers. 

It was the people that lived inside this palace that made Cliffjumper sick.

Rotting from the inside, that's what Cliffjumper always said. The people inhabiting this city were all stuck up, smug, greedy little prats. Many of them were neutrals, deeming themselves above the war and affairs of the Autobots. The Autobots, however, were the ones who kept those sniveling idiots alive and well fed and spending all their precious credits on waste, when they could be donated to supplying the army or helping to fund the health of the ones who protected their ungrateful hides.

So why the Hell was he here?

Oh, right. Magnus had sent him here on a business trip. To discuss any recent Decepticon activity within Crystal City. 

With their informative.

Cliffjumper felt his spark jump and growled in exasperation. Just... get it over with. Arguing with Magnus had proven futile, so backing out was impossible. Cliffjumper left his spot from the side of the road leading directly into Crystal City, heading inside among the glamorous and selfish.

The beauty itself had not changed. That is, what appeared on the outside. Of course the moment someone like him pulled into its limits, locals had their eyes glued on the "undignified Autobot" with disgust or morbid curiosity. In a swarm of neutrals, an Autobot stood out immediately. And to neutrals, an Autobot was just as bad as a Decepticon. 

In fact, while en route to his destination, one neutral, a fancy sports car decked out in jewels swerved dangerously close to him, shouted, "Don't bring your war here, Autobot!" before tearing off.

Cliffjumper wanted so badly to rip those tires clean off the mech, remind him thanks to the Autobots, he was still alive, but he continued onward. Lord knows the trouble he'd get in for attacking some lowly opinionated bystander. The pompous bastard didn't even sound more than a few vorns old anyway. 

Arrogant little... Cliffjumper's engines revved softly.

Luckily, Cliffjumper didn't have to deal with more harassment. It was a smooth, quick ride before he arrived at Elysiumonic Tower. Where the Autobot informative of Crystal City resided. 

Only Magnus and a small handful of Autobot superiors knew the identity of this spy. To make sure their operations ran smoothly, but also to ensure aforementioned spy's safety. It was a dangerous job, and while Cliffjumper wanted to believe Crystal City was a place of ignorant peace, there had been a handful of disruptions and riots here, and their informative had helped put numerous Decepticons lurking in the city, disguised as neutrals, behind bars.

Rats living among rats. Go figure.

It was just _who_ their informative was that made Cliffjumper strangely more on edge and reluctant to attend this business meeting.

Still on edge, Cliffjumper replied mechanically to all greetings when he stepped into the giant Tower. Posing as a traveling business man, which wasn't entirely a lie, he was guided to what was supposed to be his room. Instead, the clerk took him to a private floor, a place no one but a few members of the staff knew about. Stepping out of the elevator and sending the clerk off, he turned and looked down the hall. 

The walls were pure crystal with glowing sapphire emblems planted in streams along the surface.

So damn _pompous_.

Cliffjumper strode down the hall, that nagging feeling still nipping at his spark and processors. A moment later, he faced a single, securely locked door. Once the wall mounted cameras zoomed in on him, the doors opened, and he was ushered inside.

The room was spacious and heavily decorated. There was a window serving as one wall that overlooked the entire basis of Crystal City; regal statues scattered in the four corners, beautiful paintings and framed photos on the walls. 

It was equipped with luxuries Cliffjumper could only dream of, including a giant bar that took up one wall. A desk was smack dab in the middle of the room, decorated with organized piles of datapads and a miniature sculpture of Crystal City in the exact same material as its namesake.

"Cliffjumper."

The Minibot his head and all that spark fluttering finally stopped.

Mirage stood gracefully from his desk. He looked only slightly older, but that classy and regal demeanor remained the same. One major difference was the color of his optics: now a stunning azure. 

The blue and white mech was positively beaming. "It's so nice to see you again," he purred. "It's been too long."

"Mirage," Cliffjumper replied with a curt nod. He puffed out his chest. "You look like you've been doing alright." That was an understatement. At least Mirage got to sit behind a desk most of the time, having never known what it was like to be on hands and knees on the battlefield, blasts and bullets firing over your head, death lurking at every corner.

"You look well, too," Mirage smirked. He walked around the desk, approaching his old superior. He studied the red 'bot for a moment or two and his optics glowed gently. "It's great to see you again. Even that scowl."

Cliffjumper wrinkled his nose ridge. "What scowl--"

"I missed it," Mirage mumbled, a little embarrassed.

Cliffjumper blinked. His spark twisted and he had to look away. "... Well!" he grunted. No, no, stay focused. This was about work, not... anything else. "Magnus sent me to gather your recent reports."

Mirage also went right back into business mode. "Of course, of course," he said quickly. "But first." He raised a finger and smiled coyly. Cliffjumper arched an optic ridge. "I think we have some catching up to do..." The spy moved over to the bar.

"We can catch up later," Cliffjumper scowled. "We need--"

"I was also informed by Magnus," Mirage interrupted again, producing a pair of energon cubes. They were shaped much like wine glasses. "That this is your mega-vacation." By the sulking expression on the red Autobot's face, Mirage was right. He chuckled and poured some of the finest high grade in both glasses. "There's no need to rush. You're to report back to base in three days."

"Well, unlike you," Cliffjumper hissed, "I don't like mingling business with pleasure."

The blue and white mech just shook his head, still grinning. He walked back to his comrade, offering him a cube. "This is purely pleasure right now," Mirage said smoothly, and it made Cliffjumper twitch again.

Cliffjumper pushed the glass back. "Sorry," he grumbled, "I don't drink on the job."

Ah, it was hopeless. Mirage just sighed; still, his smile did not waver. "You're right," he agreed, ashamed. He placed the spare glass on a nearby table, looking at his with disappointment. However, it didn't last long. "Well then!" Mirage raised his head again and stepped aside, gesturing to his desk. "Shall we get down to business?"

"Of course," Cliffjumper mumbled and swept past the taller mech.

\---

"... But so far, it's been pretty smooth navigating."

Cliffjumper finished overlooking the reports. Mirage watched him, waiting for a reaction. Hopefully approval.

They had been discussing recent Decepticon activity around and inside the Towers and Crystal City for nearly an hour now. Cliffjumper had been quiet most of the time, soaking in everything Mirage had to say. Now was where he either approved or insisted Mirage was still a novice at his job.

So with his hands bridged together, watching the Minibot carefully, anxiously, Mirage hoped it was the former.

"Any questions?" Mirage finally asked.

Cliffjumper looked up from the datapads. "Magnus will be glad to see these," he stated. Immediately Mirage smiled widely before slouching back in his chair. He swore he was going to explode from the anticipation. 

It was hard for Cliffjumper, too, and even if he wanted to bite his glossa and just leave, he composed himself nearly too stiff and said forcefully, "You're doing good. We're... all impressed with your work. Magnus especially."

Despite the pressing, it was sincere. Mirage knew this much. His spark skipped a beat and that stupid grin was so sweet and pleased. "I am... so happy to hear that," Mirage retorted, struggling to remain modest. That smile on his face, however, wormed into something of a leer.

Cliffjumper twitched in his seat. 

"Now that business is finished... How about we try the pleasure part again?"

Cliffjumper frowned, looking away. "Well, what did you have in mind? I'd like to retire to my quarters soon."

"A drink. Maybe a little conversation? That _isn't_ about work or the war," Mirage suggested. His fingers stretched, just barely brushing the tips of Cliffjumper's on the desk. "I promise I won't take up too much of your time."

The smaller mech snatched his hand back. Mirage tried to hide the hurt behind his smile, but it weakened either way. 

"I suppose I can have one drink," Cliffjumper grumbled, hands settling in his lap.

"Glad to hear it," Mirage said softly and gathered to his feet. Cliffjumper took the datapads again as Mirage moved back to the bar, preparing two fresh glasses. "How have you been doing? Outside of work," he conversed. "I mean..." His optics dimmed slightly. "You haven't contacted me in nine years. Not once, really."

"I work," Cliffjumper answered, "and that's it." 

Mirage stared at the purple energon, watching it bubble as he poured it into the cubes. His silence unnerved Cliffjumper who looked back at him curiously. "And... you?" Well, he didn't know what else to say.

Light reappeared in Mirage's optics. "Hmm? Ah, well, the usual, really. Working as well, attending a few meetings outside of my... second job," he chortled. Gathering up the two glasses, he returned to his desk, offering Cliffjumper his drink. This time the red mech took it with a thankful nod, watching over the cube as Mirage took his seat again. "I'm still considered a neutral among society. Got to keep up with my other appearances. You know, the unimportant, non-beneficial stuff," Mirage teased playfully.

Cliffjumper snorted. Whatever. "Don't forget: being an Autobot takes priority over everything else," he insisted firmly.

"Oh, I know," Mirage agreed. He held out his glass to the puzzled red 'bot. "Shall we toast then? To the Autobots?" His optics glowed softly. "Maybe to our reunion?"

"The Autobots," Cliffjumper said.

Mirage wasn't surprised. "To the Autobots then."

Both mechs raised their cubes, letting them click together before taking a swallow. Cliffjumper took a rather long one. 

"You haven't had high grade in a while, I see," Mirage laughed.

"Back at base, we can't afford this rich stuff, you know," Cliffjumper muttered. He took another drink, nearly downing the entire thing.

"Well, I've got enough, so don't drink like it'll be your last," Mirage reassured. "I'll give you a few bottles to take back with you. I'm sure your new Elite Guard unit Chromia could use a drink every now and then. Especially working alongside Sentinel." 

Sentinel was one thing both mechs could see eye to eye with: his upstart attitude was irritating, and ego even worse.

"She doesn't need it."

"Well, we'll see."

Silence passed between the two Autobots, neither saying a word or attempting to make conversation. This was... somewhat surprising to Cliffjumper. Hadn't Mirage been wanting to talk Rather, the blue and white mech was sipping his high grade, watching Cliffjumper contentedly, but in a way that wasn't too... creepy. 

Cliffjumper didn't want to talk in the first place, but now that he was stuck here, he didn't want to sit in silence either. With a small fidget, he sighed and said, "You're upset, aren't you?"

Mirage's smiled tenderly. "A little," he retorted.

Cliffjumper grumbled lowly. "It's been very busy," he mumbled. He took a swig of his drink. "You don't get near as half the slag we do back at base and outside the Towers."

"Nine years."

"I know..." Cliffjumper wilted with begrudging shame. He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's not like I forgot about you or anything, but--"

"How about a game?"

The Minibot looked up. "Game?"

Mirage nodded. Suddenly, with a series of small clicks, all the material and decorations sprawled on the spy's desk locked down securely. The table then flipped over, replaced with the smooth surface of a glowing game board. There were diamond-shaped patches in light blue spread along a darker blue surface. "We haven't played in... well, nine megacycles," Mirage chortled, two sets of game pieces appearing at each end of the board. He picked one piece up, shaped like an Autobot soldier. "You still remember how to play?"

Cliffjumper snorted. "You know I never liked chessix," he grumbled. He glared at his set of dark silver pieces. "You tried to teach me and it got us nowhere."

"But you learned how to play regardless. You weren't half as bad as you believed you were," Mirage reassured. He turned the piece in his fingers. "So, how about it? One game is all I ask. And when we're through, I'll have my associates show you to your quarters."

Well, that didn't sound too bad. Maybe if it distracted them from the... awkward tension. Cliffjumper sighed, shoulders sinking. "Fine," he scowled and took another swallow of his drink. Mirage went to get him another glass, but the red mech raised a hand. He was being serious when he said one drink. Mirage nodded and understood, sitting back again.

"You remember the rules?"

"A little."

"Want me to re-educate you?"

"No. Especially when you put it that way."

Mirage chuckled. "Then..." He swept a hand over the board, like a king surveying his land. "Your move."

Cliffjumper hated this damn game. Hated when he had to make the first move. He never understood chessix in the first place, and now he was more rusty than ever. Nonetheless, just get it over with. Cliffjumper pushed his piece forward. 

.. And automatically regretted ever agreeing to play this game when Mirage quickly exploited the mistake and took his pawn. "This entire game is gonna be just like this, you know," Cliffjumper grumbled, resting his head against a hand. He made another move.

"You never know," Mirage replied softly. He moved his own piece forward. It would have continued being a silent game, had Mirage not noticed Cliffjumper occasionally casting gazes over his shoulder. He was looking out the window, at the expansive view of Crystal City. 

Mirage smirked, pushing a piece over. "Crystal City, a glorious shimmering jewel," he mused and Cliffjumper quickly looked back at him, "the crème-de-le-crème of Cybertron."

Cliffjumper eyed his companion, unsure of what he was getting at. He pushed another piece forward. 

Mirage snatched up his piece and Cliffjumper angrily clenched his fists. Only a few minutes in, and he was going to lose. "Why, time flies, you know. It doesn't seem a minute since these Towers were built to compliment the view. The capitals of Crystal City; their icons," he purred, setting aside his drink. "When you're here, you know, it's anything but ordinary."

"It's not so different or entirely that special from, say..." Cliffjumper shoved down his piece in a diamond square. "Iacon... Polyhex... Kalis... or... or Kaon, for that matter."

Kaon was a rather nasty shot. "It's not all that terrible. We may have our share of braggarts and snobs, but Crystal City is much more than just pretty lights and rich people," he explained. He bridged his hands, said fondly, "One night in Crystal City and the entire world is your oyster. The bars are temples, but the pearls... Well." He paused to chuckle. "They're not exactly free, as you can imagine."

"Nothing about this place is cheap," Cliffjumper muttered. "Everyone here is too high maintenance."

"It's a reputation, an image passed down from generations, I'm afraid," Mirage sighed and pushed a piece forward. "But like I said, it's not all that bad. Crystal City has such energy, especially at night. And in every crystalline cloister, you're likely to find some sort of celebrity."

Cliffjumper rolled his optics. "You treat your celebrities here like gods," he spat. His move and he grit his teeth when Mirage took another pawn. " _This game_ \--"

"In these dark times..." Mirage rolled a wrist, trying to find a way to word himself without sounding offensive. "... Sometimes, and it's not always Crystal City residents, you need a little break. Celebrities here are often seen as light in the darkness. Carefree, they live to entertain and inspire. Almost like gods, I suppose." He exvented loudly when Cliffjumper opened his mouth, most likely to rebuttal. "It's ignorant, I know, but sometimes you need a little distraction. Even if it comes through cinemas and music. You understand that much, right?"

Cliffjumper's mouth remained opened, but... If anything, Cybertron really needed hope. He closed his mouth and moved his pawn. If Mirage hadn't made another defensive strike instead of taking his piece, Cliffjumper would explode from insult to injury. Finally, he bustled and sat forward again, rapping his fingers on the board. "Cities are all the same anyway. No matter their appearances. Nothing's different when you're always buried in work, you know."

Mirage nodded sadly. "It really is such a pity," he sighed. "To be so consumed by work, never once taking the time to admire the beauty of your surroundings." He looked over his shoulder slightly, at the soft glow of a neighboring Tower outside.

"Whatta mean?" Cliffjumper spat. "You see one stinkin' neutral infested town--"

"If you don't want more high grade," Mirage interrupted calmly, "would you prefer some tea?"

Cliffjumper bitterly shook his head. "No, I'm fine and--whatever!" he hissed and bashed his pawn on the table. "A tourist attraction is all this city is good for. A place to lose all your inhibitions and just forget about the world and how we're in a deep Pithole. But not for me, no," he insisted, sitting back and folding his arms over his chest. He narrowed his optics. "I get my kicks above the waistline, starshine."

Mirage frowned. "It's true. All cities have their rotten and dirty secrets, but that doesn't mean they're all as bad as you make it seem," he argued. Another defensive move. "There are good things about Crystal City, if you only look a little deeper beyond the superficial." He took his glass and another drink. "One night here, the hard mech goes humble. And it all depends on how you wish to look at this city; entirely filth or an illuminating, untouched star. There's not much between despair and ecstasy."

"That so?"

"You have to remember, I have worked the... darker parts of this city. I've seen what it's capable of producing, what all these beautiful lights and jewels hide," Mirage explained. He looked at the dark purple energon, turning the crystal glass amethyst. "If you're in the right place at the right time, you're in the wrong place at the wrong time, and then you'll see... In the seedy parts of the City, even the toughest mechs tumble. You really can never be too careful with your company."

"High chance of Decepticons walking alongside you, posing as neutrals or normal residents? Yeah, no surprise," Cliffjumper mumbled. This time he was able to make a move over Mirage, taking his piece. "But it's good you're admitting this place ain't as grand as everyone assumes it is."

Mirage sat his glass down and studied the board for a moment, contemplating his next move. "And it would be nice if you could see the good in this city as well," he said, and--checkmate. 

Cliffjumper growled furiously, hands turning into fists.

"One day, you'll see, Crystal City's carefree obliviousness is going to come crashing down," the red Autobot snapped, pointing a finger. Mirage remained composed, however. "They'll be first hand witnesses at what destruction can do. Megatron may be behind bars, but that doesn't mean the Decepticons have fallen back just yet. Thank Primus I'm already prepared for this to happen; I'm in control of my destiny that much. I don't see your fellows worrying about the things Decepticons may be contemplating."

"I fear that may happen one day as well..." Mirage murmured sadly. He pushed a piece to the side. "And the idea grips me tightly like a muddy river or reclining Primus. That's why I want to try and wipe out the scum attempting to bring Crystal City down in flames. You may hate this city, but I know you'd hate to see it go to waste. If not for just the..." He paused and looked back at the world outside. "... View. But... I think over time, you'll learn to see the beauty here."

Cliffjumper huffed. "The view is..." He paused and looked up. Mirage had turned back into his seat and was smiling so wickedly at his comrade. The red mech sat back, slightly thrown off. "What are you smiling about? You always smile when I'm talking about serious matters!"

"Oh, it's nothing," Mirage purred. He picked up his main piece, the royal Primus. "I was just thinking of the ways I could show you Crystal City's glory. But I'm afraid what we have would not excite you. Our bars, our temples, our parlors... But then I remembered..." He rubbed the Primus piece between his digits. "... You did admit you loved one thing about this city. One thing that it produced you can agree with. And while it seems so simple, this... one thing..." He looked to the piece. "... Is at the heart of Crystal City."

Cliffjumper knew exactly what he was talking about. Embarrassment caused his cheekplates to warm instantly and he nervously fidgeted in his seat. "Scrap..." he scowled, teeth grit.

"Crystal City's very own Ambassador, of all people," Mirage smirked. "That's what you love the most. And they happen to be at the head of this city, a manifestation of it one could say."

"Don't..."

"I'm grateful," the blue and white mech laughed softly. "That I'm the one thing you love here." He then took his turn, taking all but one of Cliffjumper's pieces off the board. The Minibot snarled. His burning optics then raised to meet Mirage, who was still smiling smugly, sitting back in his chair with his Prima piece between two fingers, legs crossed and poised.

The backdrop of the world outside, its towering crystal buildings, its indigo purple skies... Its pure _power_ framed Mirage like a portrait.

"Well?" the Tower mech purred. "Your move."

That was it.

"I hate this game!" Cliffjumper snarled and stood to a bolt. Without thought or remorse, he knocked all the pieces off the board, letting them fly wildly across the room. Mirage was only slightly surprised but he didn't have time to form a full reaction. The red mech stormed around the desk, shoved the chair back and grabbed the taller 'bot by an audiol.

Mirage widened his optics and grunted when he was yanked roughly forward, only to find his lips slammed against Cliffjumper's, hands cupping his face possessively.

The shock wore off quickly and Mirage moaned loudly into the kiss. His hands flew to Cliffjumper's shoulders, squeezing tightly as he pulled him closer. Desire consumed both Autobots and they held one another as tightly as possible. 

Nine years, much too long, those desolate and lonely nine years. Holding back now was impossible. Just as their optics started to dim, Mirage quickly shoved the baffled red mech back and stood.

Cliffjumper was thrust into Mirage's chair now, much bigger and wider than he. Mirage stradded his lap, once again taking those shoulders and planting another firm kiss. Cliffjumper took it with no complaint, hands sliding up along the blue and white Autobot's back. A full minute later, Mirage drew back, hot air cycled between them as a thin line of coolant kept their lips connected briefly before breaking. 

"I've been waiting for this all night," Mirage heaved, chassis shaking, "you don't know how _long_..."

"I think I get the gist of it," Cliffjumper smirked. He dug his fingers against his comrade's chestplates. "You're not entirely alone here."

"Nine damn years," Mirage whined. His chestplates opened willingly, bowing down to kiss Cliffjumper. This time it was softer, quicker. "I was beginning to think you forgot about me..."

Cliffjumper chuckled against those frowning lips. "Hey," he snorted, "it's sort of hard to forget about your bondmate, you know."

Mirage felt pure bliss well in his spark. And Cliffjumper saw this when the orb of light revealed itself, glowing like a beacon in the dim room. "It sounds mushy, overly-romantic, but..." Mirage nuzzled the tip of his helm against one horn. "... I think about you all the time."

Cliffjumper's cheeks flushed with heat again. His chestplates clicked and unlocked. "Yeah..." he muttered, embarrassed. "... Same here."

Mirage chuckled. "That's a relief," he whispered and gave that same horn a kiss. He looked down, hand pressed over the parting red plating. Cliffjumper winced. "It's been so long since we last did this, I'm afraid..." he murmured, chewing his bottom lip. His gaze shifted to the side.

"Don't worry about that," Cliffjumper reassured. He was in the same boat. His fingers wrapped tightly around Mirage's arms. "What you should worry about..." His chestplates opened along with his chamber doors, spark revealing itself. Mirage's optics dazzled reflections of that brilliant orb of energy and blue light. "... I might not be able to hold back."

The blue and white mech was the one blushing now, optics a soft violet. "I..." he hesitated. Mirage laughed and kissed his bondmate. "... Wouldn't want you to anyway."

Cliffjumper leered. "Well, alright then..."

With his hands pressed against the small of Mirage's back, he pulled his bondmate forward, until their sparks crashed. The immediate force of impact caused each orb to release a rush of energy that flooded their systems. 

Mirage dropped his head back and cried out, fingers denting Cliffjumper's shoulders as they dug into his plating. Cliffjumper growled and grunted, optics squinting as he took the blast full on.

"I missed this," Mirage croaked and hugged Cliffjumper around the neck. He laughed happily. " _So much_."

Cliffjumper wrapped his arms around the larger mech, squeezing him closer until they were chest to chest, spark to spark. Mirage whimpered and pulled up his knees, planting them against Cliffjumper's thighs. His head dropped down, biting a horn.

Cliffjumper groaned and arched forward, sparks once more colliding. "Y-Yeah..." he stammered. "M-Me too." He looked up; Mirage was towering a few feet above him, but he had perfect access to his throat. Straining his head forward, he bit into one fuel pump, earning another pleasant groan from his partner. 

Mirage tightened his grip around him, biting and licking between each horn.

The smaller Autobot rocked Mirage in his arms, letting him sway in his lap and grind body to body. Blue and red paint flecked their midsections and legs, causing sharp creaking hisses. Mirage was panting hot air expelled from his vents, attempting to cool his warm chassis. He clung, refusing to let go, afraid this would be it, the last time. Once and for all.

And Cliffjumper was holding on just as tightly.

Mirage then realized he had nothing to worry about.

A few minutes passed and the build up of energy was becoming more and more apparent. Overload was imminent. "T-Thank you..." Mirage rasped, dropping his head against Cliffjumper's shoulder.

The Minibot cracked open an optic. "F-For what?"

"Everything... Training... Visiting me... Talking, playing with me... You hate it all, but you... you're here..." Mirage whispered hoarsely. He rubbed a cheek to the side of his partner's helm. "Despite... me... who I was, am... What I believe... This city... You hate it so much..."

"Well..." Cliffjumper winced. He could hardly hold back. "... I don't hate it as much as you think."

Mirage chuckled. "You're so... hard to read..." he snickered. His smile relaxed while the rest of his body went tense. "I love that..." He paused, optics opening, violet blue and half lidded. "I love you."

Cliffjumper coughed. Oh, man, he hated getting this sentimental. But... "... M'love you too..." he muttered, own optics turning a slight pink.

Overload came moments later. They held one another, swearing if they embraced any tighter they'd break. Mirage buried his cries into Cliffjumper's shoulder, the red Autobot managing to repress most of his noises into a series of strained groans. 

The warmth he felt as the excess energy from Mirage's overload washed into his system, it was wonderful. Nine years, nine long years and he had missed this more than anything.

When Cliffjumper first laid optics on Mirage, he _thought_ he'd hate him.  



End file.
